Loyal and Brave
by RavenHeart101
Summary: Being a gay teenager is hard enough. Being a gay teenager whose twin is the Boy Who Lived just makes things more complicated. Throw in the Triwizard Tournament and a lack of good communication and what do you get? Chaos. Klaine.
1. Chapter 1

Loyal and Brave

By: RavenHeart101 and Tathwem Essenuejal

Disclaimer: To disclaim something mean to denounce ownership. This disclaimer is here to denounce ownership. Enough said?

Summary: Being a gay teenager is hard enough. Being a gay teenager whose twin is the Boy Who Lived just makes things more complicated. Throw in the Triwizard Tournament and a lack of good communication and what do you get? Chaos.

**A: N –** This story has been in the works for ages. It's a little something my friend and I dreamed up while in Trig together this year instead of paying attention. We're going to be doing an every other chapter thing. The odd numbered chapters are mine. The even his. I write for Blaine, he writes for Harry. So this chapter is mine. Got it? Be nice! We're trying to make this a bit more original than most.

* * *

><p>Blaine's pencil halted against the paper when Harry sprung up from his bed with a loud gasp. Yet another bad dream, it looked like. A sigh passed through his lips, his hazel eyes looking down at his letter to Wes forlornly. Looked as though he wouldn't get to finish it until after breakfast.<p>

Harry's hand was covering his scar, his face scruntched in a pain filled curiosity and confusion. Blaine wondered what it was about this time. Death or distruction? As much as Harry acted as though this connection to Voldemort didn't scare him, Blaine knew otherwise. And even if he couldn't see through his brother, Blaine was sure he was scared enough for the two of them.

Blaine carefully folded the letter in half, pushing the lead back into the pencil with his finger and hiding them under his mattress. As much as the Dursley's favored him over Harry, Blaine knew it would become the opposite the moment they found out about his... attraction to other men. At the moment, Wes and David were the only ones who knew, and Blaine was planning on keeping it that way for at least a while longer.

Blaine sighed once more when Harry didn't so much as look at him, his brother leaning down to pick up a book before slamming it shut angrily. Blaine couldn't begin to understand what Harry was going through and, to be completely honest, Blaine didn't really want to. But he swallowed his pride and asked anyway. "Bad dream?"

Harry grunted, his head falling into his hands, the limbs pressing against his scar, as though to alieviate some pain. Blaine swallowed, shifting his eyes uneasily, his hands playing with his blanket. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Maybe it was that scar that made things between the two of them so awkward. Or maybe they were just too different to really be a like, but all Blaine really knew was that things between them had started diminishing the moment they were placed in different houses at Hogwarts and Harry grew close to Ronald Weasley. He flushed in something a kin to guilt and embarrassment when he realized that Harry would most definitely tell Ron all about his dreams while poor Hufflepuff Blaine Potter was kept in the dark. Perhaps this whole thing was his own fault for not being as brave as Harry.

But Blaine quickly shook those thoughts from his head. He was plenty as brave as Harry, he just wasn't as brash and spontaneous. Remus had made a point, last year, of telling him how much he was like Lily, their mother, while Harry was more like James, their father. "Maybe you should write Sirius." He suggested meekly, happy, for a moment, when Harry's eyes snapped to him in confusion. "Tell him about your scar." And the dream, Blaine added silently as Harry tore his gaze away from his with a nod.

Really, Sirius Blaine was probably the best person Harry could write to. The man was his godfather, just like Remus was Blaine's. And really, out of what Blaine had heard, he was a nice guy, if a little messed up. But that was what Azkaban was famous for doing to people.

Harry stopped for a moment, slowly turning around to face Blaine, his green eyes holding a question. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No." Blaine sent him a reassuring smile, relieved when Harry sent one back, even if it was a bit shaky. "Harry?" The older of the two turned back to look at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" It seemed like a valid enough question, considering what had just happened. Yet Harry simply looked at him in confusion. "I mean... that's not normal is it?"

Harry shrugged in response, falling into the desk chair and pulling a piece of parchment towards himself and beginning to write. Blaine figured that was the end of the conversation, falling backwards onto his bed with a heavy sigh. His eyes drifted closed and he reminded himself: three weeks. Three more weeks and then he'd be back at Hogwarts. Then they'd both be back home and free from the Dursley's and questions with no way of finding the answers. In all senses of the word, they'd be as close to free as they were going to get.

"Hey Blaine?" His eyes snapped open, his head turning towards Harry's general direction. "Do you think Voldemort could come back?" Harry's voice was tinted in fear and Blaine didn't know what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to comfort Harry or tell him about his growing fear that Voldemort may be coming back? He had tried twice so far, what was stopping him from trying once more? His silence was enough of an answer to his brother, his pen scratching over the parchment and his voice grim. "Yeah... me too."

Three more weeks. Three more weeks and they were free.

* * *

><p>Breakfast at the Dursley's was always a tense affair. When they were younger, and not allowed to sit at the table with the rest of them, Harry and him would play a game. They had to be silent, of course, bt they played their game. They would imitate each member of the family as they ate. It was all good fun, but now, with things as awkward and different as things had become, any meal with the Dursley's was full of tension. Blaine thought it was so thick sometimes that it could be used as a brick to break anything.<p>

Harry and him sat at one end of the table, the Dursley's all sat squished on the other. Uncle Vernon's bulldog face was hidden behind the newspaper. Aunt Petunia was going through some letters from her informants on the gossip mill. Dudley was seated strategically to see the television and was shoveling food into his mouth with vigor. Harry thought it was kind of funny. Blaine thought it was disgusting as hell. He heaved a deep sigh and pushed his food around his plate. He wasn't very hungry, at least not when he magic was pounding in his veins and warning him about something. Definitely not when his aunt had seemed to purposely make foods involving dairy products. He was still feeling sick from dinner the night before. The doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon lowered the paper to give him a pointed look but Harry's hand on his leg told him not to move. Blaine glanced over at him briefly, watching as Harry pushed his remaining grapefruit over onto his plate (because if Dudley was on a diet they all were). Blaine ate what he could gratefully as Uncle Vernon glared at the two of them before pushing himself up to answer the door.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked him gently – kindly – and quietly. Blaine sent him a small half smile.

"I'm fine." At least Blaine knew that no matter how awkward things got between them that Harry cared.

The sound of laughter and some quiet talking floated into the kitchen before Uncle Vernon waddled back in, glaring at Harry with what was obvious annoyance. Blaine shifted in his seat, his eyes falling onto the envelope covered in stamps before Uncle Vernon shoved it into his pocket, and unfurled the letter that had been inside of it. He felt curiosity mix with dread; there was surly only one reason why Uncle Vernon's face would be so purple and his glare so insistent upon Harry. The incessant need to protect his brother filled his veins, filled his senses and Blaine's muscles tensed up, ready to jump into action. But he didn't. Goodness he really was a bit of a coward wasn't he? His fists clenched against his sides, the fork beginning to clang softly against his plate. "This just arrived." Harry glanced athim from the corner of his eye, and Blaine forced his magic back down, meeting his gaze for a short moment, the two of them looking back at Uncle Vernon at the same time.

"So?" Harry had an endless amount of bravery it seemed, opening his mouth and saying what both of them had on their mind.

"So..." Uncle Vernon's eyes snapped towards him and Blaine almost slinked farther into his chair at his gaze. "It's about _you_." And, by you, it was obvious that Uncle Vernon meant the two of them. But who would send a letter about them to the Dursley's? Hogwarts, perhaps? Though that was absurd since they had never sent a letter to the Dursley's before (well besides that one time when Harry and Ron had stolen that car and crashed it into the Whomping Willow).

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, an annoyed look on his rapidly purpling face, and began to read:

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley (1), _

_We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry and Blaine about my son Ron. _

_As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. _

_I do hope you will allow us to take Harry and Blaine to the match, as really this is a once-in-a-life-time opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the Cup in thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have the twins stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see them safely onto the train back to school. _

_It would be best for the boys to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I'm not sure he even knows where it is. _

_Hoping to see the boys soon, _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Molly Weasley_

_PS. I do hope we've put enough stamps on. _

Uncle Vernon shoved the envelope towards them after a moment of deliberation. "Look at this!" His face was contorted like a bad tempered bull dog, yet he wasn't very scary. And yet, still, Blaine couldn't bring himself to say a thing. "The postman thought it was funny. He just had to know who sent it."

Harry barely stifled a laugh, Blaine, however, couldn't hold one back. His hand clamped over his mouth when Uncle Vernon's eyes turned directly onto him. "Who is this woman anyway?"

"You've seen her. Picking up her kids at the end of the school year last year." Harry replied evenly, and, either Blaine was seeing things, or Harry shuffled a bit closer to him, nearly sitting directly in front of him. Blaine had no idea why he would do such a thing, unless, of course, Harry's ever present hero complex was showing up again.

"That dumpy woman with all those children?" A flare of annoyance crept up Blaine's spine.

Blaine felt Harry stiffen in annoyance. "Yes, Uncle Vernon." He rushed to say instead. Harry shot him a look – one that clearly said 'shut it' – and looked at Uncle Vernon with frustration before his expression cooled.

"So can we go?" Harry asked. Uncle Vernon surveyed them for a long moment.

"What exactly is this... Quidditch?" He spat out.

"Well it's a sport-"

"Played on brooms." Harry sent Uncle Vernon a sickly sweet smile. Blaine tensed. Why his brother insisted on baiting their uncle, Blaine would never know.

Their uncle sputtered for a moment and Blaine knew they were at a standstill. Uncle Vernon hated doing anything that would doing anything that would make them happy. And he hated having them around. So... either he would let them go just to get rid of them, or keep them there to make them more miserable than before. But, considering his fear of Sirius Black, Blaine didn't find it too surprising when he gave them the okay.

* * *

><p>"Hey Blaine." Harry's voice called out voice called out hesitantly from where he was kneeling before his trunk. Blaine's head snapped up from his book, his knees pulled up to his chest so that the hard cover rested on them. A gift from Hermione for his birthday. Blaine was pretty sure the frizzy haired girl was the only one of Harry's close friends he really liked. Ron was, to put it lightly, an idiot and Seamus was simply too... teenage boy. He would say things that would make Blaine's face match the Gryffindor colors spectacularly. Neville was okay, if a bit daft, Blaine just didn't know him all that well. Finn seemed to have something against him and he really was less bright than Neville, but Blaine had the feeling that if he bothered think about anything other than Quidditch he would be fairly normal. But Hermione... she was definitely the one friend of Harry's that Blaine liked. Harry, on the other hand, didn't seem to like any of Blaine's friends... or try to.<p>

"Yeah?" He spoke quietly, per usual most of the time, placing his finger in his book to hold his place.

Harry rolled his shirt into a ball before shoving it into his trunk. "Do you really want to go? I mean... Quidditch isn't really your thing."

Blaine rolled his eyes at his brother. "Just because I don't like heights doesn't mean I don't like the sport." Harry flashed a smile at him, rolling another set of clothing into a ball and shoving it back into his trunk.

"You okay with staying at the Weasley's?"

"I'm sure I'll survive." Blaine let his eyes fall back onto the page in front of him. _You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know (2). _

Harry laughed softly. "I'm sure you will." The trunk fell closed with a loud sigh. "Fred and George love you. I have yet to figure out why."

"It's my charm."

"Ah." Harry hummed. "The non-existent Potter charm."

"Non-existent for you. Plenty existent in me." Blaine winked at his brother, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he flipped a page in his book.

"Why aren't we-?" A crash from downstairs alerted them to their visitors. Trading looks Blaine watched as a beaming smile crossed onto Harry's face – one that Blaine was pretty sure he ever inspired – and the elder of the two jumped off of his trunk and nearly sprinted out the door. Blaine followed at a much more leisurely pace, choosing to take his time to glance around the room once more.

It wasn't as though he hated the Weasley's, he just didn't particularly get along with the one Harry was closest to. He never would understand why Ron resented him so much, Wes seemed to think it was some sort of messed up jealousy, David seemed to think Ron was simply an ass. Blaine was more inclined to believe David's side of things, but that could have something to do with the fact that when they met on the train Ron dismissed him the moment he realized he wasn't the Boy Who Lived.

Fred and George were wonderful, truly they were. They were simply hazardous to one's health. They reminded him of a less subdued Jeff and Nick, which really wasn't that pleasant of a thought. A small smile passed over his face at the thought of his own friend's. Wes and David were a year ahead of him, and yet they were the best friend's Blaine could ever hope for. They were a bit like the brother's he never wanted. He was happy enough with the one had had since birth. Jeff and Nick were the Gryffindors out of their group – the comic relief one could say, even when they did have their more serious moments. Actually, now that Blaine thought about it, the two were horrendously clever. And then there was Santana. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how his relationship with her had been born, and he wasn't exactly sure that there was a relationship. She was nice enough, when given the chance, and she was fiercely loyal. Yet she seemed to have this deep seated resentment towards Harry, which only managed to make things a tad awkward between them. Santana and Blaine were really friends out of necessity, not through actual liking.

So maybe Blaine had a bit of a bigger social circle than Harry, but his brother had this habit of closing off to anyone that tried to get close to him. Not as though Blaine wasn't the same way, but he was a tad bit easier to read. Or at least that was what he had heard from his potion's partner, Kurt Hummel, last year.

Now Kurt Hummel was another story all together.

"Come on little badger!" Fred – and really Blaine was pretty sure it was Fred because of the birth mark that was placed next to his nose, small but definitely there – grabbed his wrist, smiling widely at him and hauling him and his trunk out the door, George greeting them at the bottom as Ron and Harry went up to their room to collect Harry's things.

"Hello, Blaine." Arthur Weasley positively beamed at him and, oh yes, Mister Weasley seemed to think Blaine was some sort of Muggle genius ever since he had taught him how to add gas to his flying car back in their first year. "Excited for the Cup?"

"Yes sir." And, really, he was. Blaine honestly did like the sport, he just hated heights with a burning passion. No way in hell was anyone getting him up onto a broom stick – he had enough trouble getting onto the stands to watch the games. "Your projects going well?"

"Positively! I'll have to borrow you from the boys a bit and have you help me out, eh?"

"Of course, sir." Blaine smiled politely. He really did like Mister Weasley – his bubbly personality was a bit too contagious.

Just then Harry pounded down the stairs, Ron following not long after with his school stuff, his brother falling into place beside him, that happy smile still on his face as he watched the Weasley's interact with the Dursley's. And was... Dudley eating something off the floor? Blaine wrinkled his nose in disgust. He would never live to understand his oaf of a cousin. Honestly, how he managed to make it that far in life was beyond him.

And then Dudley let out a loud scream. Blaine jumped back into Harry, nearly causing the two of them to fall over, but George caught them and shoved the two of them into the fire place, Ron joining not a moment later. Then Blaine saw them: dozens of brightly colored candies littering the Dursley's living room floor and a small wink that Fred sent in his direction. His wide, hazel eyes searched out Dudley once more, watching as he tongue seemed to expand, growing longer and longer. Blaine thought for a moment that he looked a bit like a snake who had eaten an elephant for lunch and had yet to digest it.

"Ron get them to the Burrow!" Mister Weasley ordered, and Ron obeyed. Blaine wondered if there was anything that Ron didn't follow orders on. Oh yes, he remembered now: de-gnoming the garden.

* * *

><p>Blaine trudged behind the rest of the Weasley's on the way to find the portkey, shoving a piece of Molly Weasley's biscuits into his mouth as he searched through his bag for his glasses and wand. Of course he was running late – Blaine blamed it on Harry, of course – and of course he was stuck trailing behind hi brother blindly. Per usual.<p>

In case anyone was unaware, Blaine was not a morning person in the least.

"Come on, Blaine!" Hermione's voice called out to him from somewhere ahead. With a triumphant sort of sound Blaine pulled out his glasses and wand, shoving the black rimmed plastic and glass over his eyes and his wand into the pocket of his jeans, tugging the biscuit out of his mouth and running a bit to catch up. Hermione's head of frizzy hair turned to face him, revealing her beautiful brown eyes and a sparkling smile. "How was your summer?" She linked her arm through his, Ginny following suit on the other side of him. He had a feeling that they were simply spending time with him so that he didn't feel so lonely, but he wasn't about to push them away. Their efforts were working.

"As wonderful as it could get with the Dursley's." He replied, smiling easily at the two girls as they pushed passed his brother and Ron, moving to walk behind Fred and George, which Blaine wasn't sure was entirely safe considering just who the twins were. "Thank you for the book by the way. I love Oscar Wilde."

Hermione positively beamed at him, yet, before she could so much as utter a "you're welcome" Mister Weasley was yelling out a kind hello to someone up ahead of them.

Never had Blaine cursed his height deficiency as he did at that moment. "Amos!"

"Arthur! Took you all long enough!" The jovial man slapped Mister Weasley on the back with a loud smile. Blaine wasn't particularly sure how a smile could be loud but he was pretty sure this Amos was smiling as loud as he could get. "Cedric!"

"Boys – and girls – this is Mister Diggory." Ah, that made more sense than. Cedric's father, Blaine guessed.

And how right he was, Cedric almost literally falling from the sky, his feet bouncing off the ground and his body landing directly in front of Blaine and the girls. He jumped back, Ginny letting out a tiny shriek before laughing at herself. "Hello Blaine." Cedric had a brilliant smile. Blaine forced himself to swallow and look away, a blush spilling over his cheeks at the thought that he had a _crush_ on Cedric Diggory, quite possibly the straightest boy at Hogwarts.

"Hell-Hello." He stuttered out, cursing his inability to really speak. But Cedric seemed to pay his discomfort no attention, turning around to greet everyone else. Really, Blaine was beginning to really despise being gay. If he was straight he could have a crush on someone like Hermione or Ginny. That would have been perfectly lovely and easy.

"What exactly is a portkey?" Blaine asked Hermione under his breath once Cedric had fallen ahead to talk to Fred and George.

"It's a device that was created to bring magical people from one place to another. Sort of like the floo only not. And since none of us can apparate it's a nice substitute."

"How will we know what it looks like?"

"They're usually inconspicuous objects so that muggles don't find them and accidentally travel to places they shouldn't be." Hermione winked at him, nudging his side. He didn't really know what he had done to cause the wink but he blushed once more when she nodded in Cedric's direction, to where the other Hufflepuff was smiling in his direction at something Fred had said.

* * *

><p>The Quidditch game was marvelous. The portkey ride most definitely wasn't. It had felt as though the world was closing in on him at all sides and he literally had left his stomach back where they had grabbed onto the boot. He was pretty sure he would have thrown up his breakfast if he had had more than half a biscuit when they landed. On their backs. With the world swimming before his eyes.<p>

But, anyway, the game was fantastic, and, at the moment, Blaine was happy to lay back against his bed in the enchanted tent and rest a bit. He let the noises of the celebration outside the tent wash over him. He heard Harry teasing Ron about his love for Viktor Krum, singing a bit to himself as he did. He wasn't really sure what he was singing, only that it came from somewhere that had him feeling safe.

His eyes snapped open at the bang from outside the tent. He sat up in his bed when Mister Weasley pushed Fred and George off of Ron and told them to quit fooling around. Harry's eyes sought out his own, the fear he so purely felt reflected in their depths. "Come on!" Ginny grabbed his shirt and pulled him out of the tent and into the night air.

It was chaos. Pure chaos. People were screaming and running, some firing curses and spells and pushing them all into a tiny group. Blaine ran when he was pushed to go, reaching out for Harry's hand only to have it pulled away from his shortly after. Panic seized his chest when he saw the men and women in black capes and white masks. "Harry!" He called out blindly, turning around on the spot.

"Blaine!" His brother's voice came from somewhere to his right and he turned to face it. Only to be hit with a bright flash of white and he was tumbling backwards into a warm body and a tiny squeal, darkness clouding all edges of his vision until it faded. He could have sworn the last thing he saw was an angel with blue eyes and a Slytherin crest.

* * *

><p>(1) Taken word for word from GOF on page 30. Not mine.<p>

(2) From The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Once again, not mine.

** A:N -** So... what do you think? Want more?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: ****I would first like to introduce myself to all of RavenHeart 101's fans. I am Tathwem Essenuejal, and I will be writing Harry's story line. Having primarily put works on fictionpress, I am not used to seeing so many wonderful and encouraging reviews. I am excited and honored my friend trusted me to collaborate with her and I hope that you find me at least half as entertaining. Thank you to all the reviews. And thanks to a lot of pressure from my co-author, I have the next chapter of the story for you.  
>Best Wishes,<br>Tathwem**

* * *

><p>"Blaine!" Harry cried one more time in vain. Spells swarmed around him as he tried to find his brother. The crowds of people fleeing were flowing against him. But Harry wasn't going to quit until he was with Blaine. There would be no forgiving himself if Blaine were hurt or killed. Still, the dark hair they both shared wouldn't help either of them find each other. Harry muttered under his breath. <em>Damn Blaine's short height!<em> Harry made one last effort to push through the crowd.

Harry was able to identify two familiar faces. Ordering a frizzy haired girl next to him to run was none other than his red-haired best friend. "Ron! Hermione!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs trying to dash between people. They were making their own dash as Harry tried to close the distance. "Ron! Hermione!" Harry bellowed one more time with all the strength of his voice. At last they turned around.

"Harry!" Ron shouted. "Run, we got to get moving."

Harry made a full on sprint not paying attention for any spells. He stayed low and caught up to Ron and Hermione. "Where's Blaine?" Harry demanded.

"He isn't with you?" Hermione asked gasping as they took cover in the woods.

"We got separated." Harry explained quickly. "I have to go back, I'm not leaving without him."

"Bloody hell mate! No!" Ron protested. "You'll get killed out there!"

"He's my brother Ron!" Harry retorted.

"You'll be doing neither of you two any good going out into that!" Ron pointed to the scene unfolding. A good majority of the tents were on fire. Harry only began to notice all the screaming. The masked men continued on undaunted by any resistance.

"Ron's right Harry," Hermione added. "You could get killed out there. And that does nobody any good."

Harry shook his head. They were both right, but Harry didn't have to like it. His brother could be somewhere out there and if he were to die, Harry's summers with the Dursley's would be all the more miserable. "You're right," Harry forced. "Run."

The woods were dark and did not glow like the camp was. The only sound Harry could hear was the leaves rustling as they ran. "Do we know where we are even going?" Harry asked. "I don't see anyone else going this way."

"Well then open your eyes Potter because it's not like I'm invisible," a gruff voice replied. Harry didn't even need to see the Blonde hair or the smug look on the boy's face to know who was talking.

All three friends stopped running. "What the hell you want Malfoy?" Ron replied between gasps. "I reckon you have a good idea what is going on. Show yourself."

Draco stepped out from behind a tree. "Shut up Weasley. Didn't your father ever teach you anything about manners? It's not polite to assume."

"Well you seemed pretty relaxed for such a riot," Ron shot back.

"Ron he's not worth our time," Hermione urged.

"How dare you say I'm not worth your time you filthy little mudblood," Draco scoffed.

"And I suppose it is us that aren't worthy of your time?" Harry replied.

"Well aren't you getting smarter Potter. As a matter of fact, that is the case. But I suppose I have nothing better to do on a night like this."

"Let's get going," Harry suggested.

"Where's your brother Potter? Is he missing?"

Harry had heard enough from Malfoy and reached into his pocket for his wand. It wasn't there. Scrambling he took Malfoy by the collar before he could react. "Have you seen him?" Harry demanded. "Where the hell is he?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know Potter?" Malfoy laughed. "If you must know he's with that Hummel boy. You know? The pathetic one who hasn't gone through puberty yet! What a shame to Slytherin. I wonder if he's really even a boy. I have to say, your brother is worse at picking friends than you."

Harry released Malfoy but kept a cold glare. Harry knew who Malfoy was talking about, but Harry didn't actually know who he was. At least Blaine wasn't alone. Still, the thought of Blaine with some stranger frightened Harry.

"We have to keep moving," Hermione insisted. Her lips quivered with fear.

Harry turned back one more time at Draco then bolted off with Hermione and Ron. The trio were near a clearing when they briefly encountered a bewildered Ludo Bagman. After he disappeared Harry heard something. Someone was approaching who wasn't Ron or Hermione. "Who's there?" Harry shouted.

Ron and Hermione stood ready to draw their wands. They stood still for only a moment. All of a sudden, a voice broke the silence. "Mosmordre!"

The Dark Mark formed in the night sky. Screams of terror could be heard all around. Harry gazed up perplexed. "Hermione? What are people screaming about?"

"That's his mark Harry," Hermione mumbled. "Whenever he killed anyone this mark would appear. It's You-Know-Who's sign Harry. It hasn't appeared in thirteen years."

"The night he kil-" Harry stopped when he saw that they were surrounded by numerous figures. "Get down!" Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione by the arms pulling them down to the ground.

"Stupefy!" The figures shouted in unison. Red lights shot out in different directions when another voice cried out.

"Stop!" Harry recognized the voice immediately as Mr. Weasley. He never appreciated the man more than he did now. "That's my son!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry?" another voice asked from behind the crowd. Another moment of relief.

"Blaine! Are you alright?" Harry asked. Ron grunted in the background. Harry stood up immediately to see Blaine face to face.

"Lucky boy he is," Mr. Weasley sighed pointing behind the group of ministry workers. "That boy over there was dragging him when we found them."

Harry looked up to see a pale blue eyed boy with neatly combed hair. He remembered Malfoy mentioning Blaine with the Hummel boy. "That's Kurt," Blaine added. "If it weren't for him I'd probably be dead."

Harry continued to study Kurt. He didn't trust him. The boy clearly had Slytherin in his blood. Still, he had saved his brother's life. He deserved a "thanks" at least. "Thanks," Harry muttered.

"Oh, it was nothing," Kurt replied. The high pitch tone of his voice annoyed Harry. There was an aura around him that screamed he was better than the rest of the people his age. Everything about Kurt annoyed him. But Blaine was alive and for that he was grateful. Still, Harry knew how friendly Blaine was. He didn't want anybody, especially a Slytherin, exploiting that.

* * *

><p>Harry, Blaine, Hermione, and the Weasley's returned home early the next morning. Harry felt exhausted. Between the nightmares of the last few nights and the riot along with the appearance of the Dark Mark the night before would not let him sleep. But he soon noticed he wasn't the only one who didn't sleep well the night before. Mrs. Weasley came running out of the house in her night clothes with her hair a mess. "Oh dears thank goodness you are all safe," she cried. She met with Fred and George first. "I'll never let you two leave me on a sour note like that again."<p>

"Never?" They replied in unison. "You know we will hold you to that one mum," Fred added. "We will remind you every time," George warned.

Mrs. Weasley went around to each of her children and even Harry, Blaine and Hermione. "The Daily Profit is filled with details on the event," Mrs. Weasley ranted. "Rita Skeeter got hold of it."

"That woman is hardly a reporter," Percy chimed in. "You know she's out for the ministry. She's out of context and out of line!"

"I know Percy," Mrs. Weasley replied. "The woman is as daft as a garden gnome. I'm sure your father has had it right about up to his neck with her. She can't even get anyone's name right."

Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione. Ron looked aggravated. Harry wasn't sure if he was just tired or the name of Rita Skeeter set him off a little. Hermione glanced over at Harry and made her way over to Blaine. Harry couldn't catch the whole conversation but they were off to talk about something related to Oscar Wilde.

"Ron," Harry whispered urgently. "I need to tell you something."

"What is it mate?" Ron asked leaning closer.

"Let's talk in the house," Harry suggested.

* * *

><p>"I think you should send another letter to Sirius mate," Ron insisted. "Maybe he'll at least be able to identify someone from the dreams. And you'll know he will want to hear exactly what you saw last night. The Dark Mark, the chaos. He's lived through this, and unlike mum, he thinks you are ready to hear these things."<p>

Harry knew Ron was right. He just hated to send his godfather all the bad news. And no doubt Sirius would share it all with Professor Lupin. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Harry just didn't like so many people worrying for him. Sirius had enough to worry about having to hide from the ministry. Harry was more comfortable that Sirius had Professor Lupin, but that put Lupin in danger too. "Yeah, you're right."

"What'll happen if Voldemort returns?" Ron asked.

"He'll try to kill me and whoever stands in his way," Harry answered. "But remember Ron, all I have to do is touch him and he'll turn to dust."

"You'll have to touch him first," Ron replied.

"To be honest Ron, as long we have Dumbledore, I don't think Voldemort will be able to kill me," Harry replied. He didn't exactly want Dumbledore to have to protect him, but knowing Dumbledore could defend him was comforting. He was the best sorcerer in the world after all. Voldemort, although resentful of Dumbledore, knew he was a powerful wizard.

* * *

><p>"For God's sake Ron!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Hurry up so we can see how your robe fits."<p>

Harry tried hard to not laugh as Ron stepped out in the hand-me down dress robes that might have been in taste back in the day of Godric Gryffindor. Today, it was quite feminine and Harry wasn't the only one who thought so. Ginny and Hermione began giggling a little.

"I look hideous," Ron protested.

"You can say that again," Ginny agreed.

"Oh please you look fine Ron," Mrs. Weasley protested. "Ginny, don't be making fun of your brother's robe."

Ginny and Hermione faced each other covering their mouths as they contained their giggling fits. Harry managed to discipline himself a little better. "It's better than they make it out to be Ron," Harry said.

"Oh sure," Ron replied raising his arms. "Coming from the boy in the fancy bottle green robes! And I'm sure Blaine has something really nice too."

"Navy blue," Harry admitted.

Ron slammed the door and Harry cringed. The difference in financial standing between Harry and Ron often led to some jealousy, but never had it led to something to this level. Harry would rather have his parents than money. Seeing as his parents left him and Blaine all their money which just sat in a bank for eleven years never being withdrawn.

"He'll be fine," Mrs. Weasley sighed shaking her head. "Why don't we all just go and have some lunch. Run along down stairs."

* * *

><p>Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blaine, and the rest of the Weasleys were all dressed in their casual muggle clothing. Everything went as usual. Platform 9 and 34 was crowded with students loading animals and luggage onto their train. Parents were giving their last goodbyes as students went off to school and people were hugging the friends they had not seen all summer.

Blaine went off to join David and Wes as Harry Ron and Hermione picked a compartment together. Harry's mind was on an unspecified big event at Hogwarts Bill and Charlie were talking about. Harry was quite certain the last three years had been eventful enough without anything special this year. And with the Death Eaters rioting at an event like the Quidditch World cup, who was to say they wouldn't try to tamper with whatever was at Hogwarts. Last year, nobody had done an act in the name of Voldemort on school grounds. Turns out the Peter Pettigrew had been coming on to the school grounds for a few years. Maybe the school was finally safe.

Just as Harry was about to say something he overheard the voice of Draco Malfoy in the next compartment. "My father almost sent me to Durmstrang. He figured it would be a lot better than sending me to Hogwarts. Durmstrang takes a more… aggressive approach to the Dark Arts. Father says it's a lot better than this pathetic school run by the overrated Albus Dumbledore."

Harry clenched his fist. He was tempted to walk over to Malfoy's compartment. Knowing it was no good Harry relaxed himself. "He'd be better off at Durmstrang," Hermione said.

"The best part of that would be we wouldn't have to hear from him," Ron chimed in. "The way him and his family talk is disgusting. I say I'd much rather him at Durmstrang."

"Where is Durmstrang?" Harry asked.

"Nobody knows," Hermione replied. "Like Hogwarts, its location is hidden so muggles can never find it. Another school that does the same is Beauxbatons Academy. Magic protects all three schools from being discovered by muggles. Not only that, but you can't apparate or disapparate in the grounds."

"Wicked," Ron replied. "So we are the only ones who know how to get to Hogwarts."

"Precisely," Hermione replied.

* * *

><p>At last. Harry felt the warmth of home surround him despite the pouring rain and the water balloon assault by Peeves. He was at Hogwarts. And for the first time in two years, he was there for the opening ceremonies. He had been late two years ago, and the year before a dementor attack left him unfit to be present. And he would get to see who got sorted into each house this year. Collin Creevy had been quick to tell Harry that his brother was one of the first years to be sorted.<p>

After the sorting of the first years, the feast began. Dumbledore of course addressed the first years on rules and reminded the upperclassmen of them. It probably wouldn't be a month before he broke some rule. And Dumbledore probably wouldn't be surprised either. Somewhere in the middle of the feast—which Hermione didn't take part in after hearing all of Hogwarts' food was made from the labor of House Elves—Dumbledore had a few more announcements. The first one, caused an uproar among many of the students. Even Harry was sore with the news. There would be no inter-house Quidditch tournament. Quidditch was one of Harry's favorite parts of Hogwarts. Ever since he had first ridden a broomstick, he loved to fly. And the Quidditch pitch had been where Harry shined.

Before Dumbledore could make his second announcement, the doors to the Great Hall opened. A man with a prosthetic leg, a large fake eye obviously given magical powers, and a badly damaged face walked in. When he finally came to the front and joined the other teachers Dumbledore had greeted him and introduced him. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.

"That's the man dad went out to assist this morning with Mr. Diggory. The famous Auror. Most people call him Mad-Eye Moody," Ron stressed to Harry and Hermione excitedly.

"I wonder why," Harry retorted sarcastically.

"Now," Dumbledore boomed once again. "This year, Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard tournament. I must warn you, that this tournament will test it's champions in every sick way possible. This is not for the faint of heart. And the winner will be rewarded generously, with eternal glory and one thousand galleons. Joining us, will be Beauxbaton academy, and Durmstrang. They will be staying here at Hogwarts. Make them welcome among us. This inter-school tournament is also meant to promote the making of lasting friendships, peace, and competition."

Every student in the hall was silent. They stared at Dumbledore captivated. Even Harry liked the sound of this competition. Not that he needed more money or fame by any means. But maybe it would help him get the attention of Cho Chang. Ron seemed to be interested in the competition himself. Harry figured one thousand galleons sounded quite appealing to someone who never had much money. To Ron, this competition could probably afford him at least a better dress robe. Only Hermione didn't seem excited. In fact, her face expressed a great deal of concern.

"Due to the danger of this competition, only students who are of seventeen years of age and older are permitted to enter," Dumbledore added much to the chagrin of the students. Fred and George especially seemed to protest the idea. Ron too was furious with the rule. Harry sat back a little disappointed. Maybe it was for the better but still, this was his best chance to actually have some fun this year. How else would Cho see his talents?

"There's a reason for Dumbledore's rule," Hermione butted in. "People have died in this tournament. It's hardly beyond the skill of ordinary witches and wizards. Only the most talented, powerful, and intelligent wizards can win."

"Silence!" Dumbledore ordered as the hall fell silent and tranquil once again. "You are now dismissed from the hall to your Dormitories. Older students considering entering their name into the competition to be Hogwarts' champion, think thoroughly. This is not a decision to take lightly. Prefects, escort the first years to their dormitories, and I wish you all a good night."

"How dangerous is this competition exactly?" Ron asked Hermione. "I mean, it's not like it would be the first time we were in over our experience level in magic. I'd say we are actually pretty qualified."

"What if they put a gigantic spider in one of the tasks?" Hermione asked.

Ron's face went white. Harry didn't laugh, having witnessed Ron's fear for spiders. "It's okay Ron, none of us will have to worry about it," he said shrugging it off.

"Right," Ron replied, his face still pale, like it had when they had met Aragog.

* * *

><p>At breakfast, Harry couldn't help but listen in to Fred, George, and Lee Jordan's idea of how to bypass Dumbledore's age line to enter their names for a chance to be Hogwarts' Tri Wizard Champion. Despite Harry's lack of interest in money and fame, he dreamed more about the tournament. Just the danger and trouble of the Tri Wizard Tournament itself attracted Harry. Blaine always called it his weakness. He was always pursuing danger, consciously or subconsciously.<p>

Speaking of Blaine, Harry wondered Blaine's take on the Tri Wizard tournament. Knowing him, he was probably more interested in the fact that there would be two more schools of people here to meet. He was more open than Harry, although not completely open. Blaine never understood why Harry was so particular about whom he was friends with. It was simple in Harry's mind. He was famous, the boy who lived. People were attracted to fame, and he wanted friends who wouldn't care if he was famous or not. He could never be too sure who that would be, but Ron and Hermione most certainly that way.

Harry looked up at the Slytherin table to see Draco Malfoy laughing over an article in the Daily Prophet. "That can't be good," Harry, said to Ron and Hermione nudging Ron's arm.

"Stop paying attention to Malfoy," Ron insisted. "He's always been a foul overconfident 'pure blood.'"

For a moment Harry considered it, until Malfoy looked up and motioned with his head towards Ron. "I think it has something to do with your family," Harry updated.

Ron finally looked back seeing the grin on Malfoy's face. There was no mistaking the grin meant nothing good. Ron's face immediately turned red as he got up from the Gryffindor table. Harry followed quickly behind him. Hermione was not present and had gone off to the library for a more practical approach to boycott house elf labor.

"Well well well," Malfoy cheered. "If it isn't the son of Arnold Weasley himself." Malfoy began to laugh along with Crabbe and Goyle.

"That's not my father's name," Ron retorted bitterly clenching his fists.

"According to this article it is," Malfoy laughed handing the paper over to Ron. "Your father is once again bringing the ministry down."

Harry glanced over Ron's shoulder to look at the article. The article itself didn't catch Harry's attention, but the name of the editor did.

"Oh and I suppose you believe in all of Rita Skeeter's lies like you do your own father's," Ron huffed.

"Don't you dare insult my father Weasley," Malfoy snapped standing up. "I won't tolerate it."

"And I should tolerate your remarks?" Ron asked. "If you leave my family alone I'll leave yours alone."

"Your family is made up of blood traitors!" Malfoy responded. "You deserve to be scum of the Earth."

"Why don't you shove your words somewhere useful Malfoy," Harry taunted butting in to the discussion. "Arguing on the lines of Rita Skeeter most certainly don't help you make a point. It makes you look more like an idiot than you already are."

"Watch yourself Potter," Malfoy learned. "You should be minding your own business."

Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Let's just go," he urged. "Let him be the idiot he is."

As Harry turned around Malfoy drew his wand pointing it at Harry. Before he could speak a word the wand dropped from his hand and laughter erupted in the Great Hall. Harry turned around to see no sign of Malfoy, but just a ferret. All of a sudden a voice boomed at the table as Professor Moody approached his wand drawn.

"I bet your father would teach you a move like that you coward!" he yelled. "What are you going to do now? Your father can't save you, you little brat! Never attempt to…"

"Professor Moody!" a voice interrupted walking down to the Slytherin table.

"Oh good morning Prof…"

"Is that a student?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"Technically it's a ferret," Moody replied holding a grouchy appearance on his face.

"Surely you know transfiguration is not to be used as a punishment," McGonagall warned. "Maybe this matter would be better handled by Professor Snape.

"Of course Professor," Moody replied. "Consider it done."

With a flick of Professor McGonagall's wand, Draco was transfigured back into his student form. "Bloody shame," Ron chuckled as Professor McGonagall walked away. "He looked much better as a ferret."

Moody grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder and muttered, "Another acquaintance of mine. Professor Snape. Don't think you'll get off easy boy. Threaten me with your father all you want, he's just as easily handled as the dark wizards I've encountered over the years. Your family is made up of a bunch of cowards!"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances smiling. Harry knew one thing was for certain. Professor Moody wasn't the most orthodox of the teachers. He was actually really cool. Only time would tell what lessons he could teach, but Harry was confident this year of Defense Against the Dark Arts would prove to be interesting. "You know Ron," Harry started, "I wouldn't mind seeing Malfoy like that again."

"Neither would I," Ron replied. "But it's a little scary."

"Just don't do anything wrong in his class," Harry suggested.

"Yeah, right," Ron replied.

As they sat back down at the Gryffindor table Harry had figured Fred, George, and Lee had come up with their plan. "Do you think they'll be able to do it?" Ron asked.

"Do what?" Harry replied not entirely sure what Ron was talking about.

"Cross the age line with whatever plan they have."

Harry looked over to the trio of jokers once more and laughed. "I don't think they stand a chance."


	3. Chapter 3

Loyal and Brave

By: RavenHeart101 and Tathwem Essenuejal

Disclaimer: To disclaim something means to denounce ownership. This disclaimer is here to denounce ownership. Enough said?

Summary: Being a gay teenager is hard enough. Being a gay teenager whose twin is the Boy Who Lived just makes things more complicated. Throw in the Triwizard Tournament and a lack of good communication and what do you get? Chaos.

**A: N – **I've been working on this chapter FOREVER! Like literally. I'm not sure if I like it. We're going to try to take the plot a bit slower to take up more chapters and actually give us some time to flush somethings out. As a reminder, Tathwem is NOT a fan fiction writer. This is, in fact, his first real venture into fan fiction so cut the guy some slack. -wink-

Number1KurtHummelFan (Oh this chapter will have more Klaine. Don't be expecting all that much when we're in Harry's POV. XD), PopcornSoda (You are so nice. I love it. :D Please keep reading. I hope you'll keep on loving the story as it progresses!), dreamdancer504 (It's going to sort of do both. Main plot is most likely going to be HP, with some side plots of Glee.), RobinWayne (Yes, yes. Kurt is a Slytherin. :D), Ae-Cha (Still fantastic, as usual.), mumimeanjudy (Yeah Harry's a bit OOC for the time being but we have a reason why he's acting the way he is. Don't you worry.), and a really special thank you to everyone else who took the time to review. You're all amazing and if I could I would send you all gift basket.

Pairings are as follows (for anyone wondering): Klaine, Harry/Quinn, Finchel, Brittana, and others. If you want the others we can fill you in. Or you can always be fun and guess... :D

Why do I always write long Author's Notes?

* * *

><p>"Wake up!" Blaine shuddered to wakefulness, rolling onto his side. Fire flashed through his veins, his muscles pulling in on themselves. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, pain unknown to him spread throughout his whole body. "Merde (1)." A soft, high pitched voice broke through the haze of his mind. A gentle touch of skin against his cheek, right under his eye caused them to stutter open. "There you are." A beautiful smile painted the pale face, blasts and screams filling the air around them.<p>

"I-"

"Shh." The soft hand grabbed his arm, tugging him to unsteady feet before falling into his own. "We need to hide." The hand felt surprisingly steady in his own, the pain subsiding into a dull ache. "Think you can run?"

"I-yes." Blaine stuttered out and, clearly that was a good enough answer for the other boy. Kurt, Kurt. That's who he was with. Some of his apprehension left his shoulders until it hit him – _Harry._ "Wait!" He pulled Kurt to a half stop, but the small Slytherin was stronger than he looked, tugging Blaine forward a few more steps. "_Wait_! I have to find Harry! I can't lose him!" His irrational fear of being left alone mixed with the lingering pain. He couldn't lose Harry! If he lost him he wouldn't know what to do anymore! "_Please_!"

But Kurt didn't stop, wouldn't stop. Suddenly he jumped back, pushing Blaine behind a tree stump and crouching so that they were level. It was a low crouch, and Blaine found it hard to maneuver in his stiff blue jeans. Yet Kurt, even as impeccably dressed as he was, with knee high boots and tight black skinny jeans, pulled the feat off as though it was nothing more than a simple dancers crouch. And, now that Blaine thought about it, it probably was so for him. "Help me, please!" A woman appeared out of nowhere, a child, no older than four, in her arms. "Please! You've got to protect her! Please!" She shoved the girl at the two of them, pushing the little child into Kurt's arms before standing up, and immediately falling backwards with a wordless scream and a flash of green light.

Kurt shrieked a bit, burying the girl's face in his shoulder and closing his eyes, almost nuzzling against her hair. "Kurt come on." But Kurt wasn't moving. The blue eyes that Blaine had come to think of as marvelous shooting over to his own. Blaine winced as more screams and cries filled the air, the parade of men in white masks marching towards them. "Kurt come on." His hand was shaking as he held it out to the Slytherin and Kurt placed his inside Blaine's after a small moment of deliberation, the crying child clutched tight in his embrace.

They took off into a fast run, stopping every now and then to kneel behind some tall objects. They didn't talk, but they didn't need to. Kurt's hand was steady in his own, keeping him grounded and forbidding him from collapsing as the pain increased. Now he knew what Harry felt like when his scar ached the way it did. Blaine clenched his teeth, his hand curling around Kurt's even tighter. "Oh no." Kurt pulled them to a sudden stop, the white masked mob turning on them with vicious faces, lacking emotion.

"_Crucio_!" One of them yelled, his wand pointed squarely at Kurt's chest where the little girl was cradled. He acted on instinct, pushing the two of them backwards before excruciating pain shot through his whole body. Screams tore from his throat, his muscles twitching with every new burst of fire. Someone laughed in obvious enjoyment and then suddenly it stopped. Suddenly it all stopped.

The pain ceased, the screams disappeared, and Blaine could have sworn he heard nothing. Until Kurt's face popped into his eye line, ash and dirt caking his cheek, and his blue eyes wide with fear and concern. His mouth was moving but Blaine heard no noise until everything came rushing back, the sheer volume of what was going on around him throwing him for a loop. His muscles were taut and cramped and he held himself off from curling into a ball and crying, even if tears were already coating his cheeks. And it seemed Kurt was going through the same thing, pink streaks from where his tears had dried painted onto his pale skin.

"Are you okay?" His wand was clutched in his hand at his side. "The little girl she – she ran off after you pushed us down and-"

"What's that?" An eerie green skull with a snake flowing from it's mouth was hanging in the sky over Kurt's head. The brunette glanced backwards, freezing in what Blaine was sure was fear. "Kurt, what is that?" Blaine asked again, sitting up and glancing back at Kurt and then up at the symbol in the sky. "Kurt!" The boy jumped.

"That's his sign."

"Who's sign?"

"His sign." And Blaine knew who Kurt was talking about, his eyes wide as they re-found the mark in the sky, his hand unconsciously finding Kurt's. The Dark Mark.

* * *

><p>He snapped up his seat, Wes quickly stumbling backwards. "You okay?" David leaned forward in the leather chair across from him, closing his book with a snap and his eyes wide with concern.<p>

Blaine cleared his throat, rearranging himself in his seat and reaching up to fix his Hufflepuff tie so that it rested comfortably against his neck. "Fine." He croaked before clearing his throat and repeating himself. "Fine."

Wes smiled crookedly at him, his head tilted to the side and his brown eyes surveying the boy he thought of as a charge for almost the passed four years. "With dreams like those people are going to start thinking you're your brother." Blaine rolled his eyes to hide the blush that was creeping up his neck. If anyone mistook him for his brother, than they needed to go to the eye doctor. Or some sort of psychiatrist. The two of them weren't alike in the least. "But, seriously, are you okay? That looked like a bit of a monster dream."

A short laugh floated through Blaine's lips as he straightened himself in his chair. He scratched as his head, running a hand over his controlled curls, frowning at the few that had come undone in his unintentional nap. "I'm okay, Wes." A disarming smile was sent as his fellow Hufflepuff.

"Maybe you should go to bed." David offered with a small chuckle.

"Wouldn't want Nick and Jeff to tire you out all day tomorrow." Wes reasoned, picking the book off Blaine's lap and placing it on the side table in the corner of the room. "Now go on. Go to bed." He encouraged with a hand on top of Blaine's shoulder.

Annoyance pricked at the edge of Blaine's mind and he couldn't stop the scoff before it was passing out of his mouth. But he shook it off when his friends sent him looks full of concern. "I think I'm going to go for a walk." His hands gripped at the leather, pushing himself up off the chair and throwing his robe over his arm.

"Blaine-"

"I'll be fine." He smiled at his friend and promptly walked out of the common room. The portrait swung closed behind him, Blaine pushing himself into the corner and looking into the empty hall. The torches set alight as little of the hallways as possible.

Sometimes Blaine would go on walks to think things through. It was a habit that spanned as far back as when Blaine was eight and Dudley had a few friends over and one had been dared to try and kiss him. Harry had lost it, punching the other boy with a larger amount of force than an eight year old should have (which if Blaine thought about it, it was probably his brother's temperamental magic that had done it.). But... ever since then Blaine had taken to taking walks whenever he wanted – it wasn't as though the Dursley's cared, and, even if he was at Hogwarts and had friends now, there were always times when Blaine just wanted to think. And walking around the school and grounds at night when almost no one was around was perfect. Moreover, seeing as to how he was a Hufflepuff no one really suspected that he would be any trouble – which was more than a little bit okay and offensive. But maybe Blaine was just in a sour mood.

He shook his head and pushed his hands in his pockets, deciding to forgo the robe for the time being and instead walk around the school in his white suit shirt and yellow and black tie. He didn't really know where he was planning to go just yet – he never had a plan on where he was going, he just went. With his head bent Blaine walked from corridor to corridor, his thoughts spinning in his head. He needed someone to talk over what had happened with. He needed someone to tell him exactly what had happened at the World Cup because he was at a loss. He needed someone who was there. He needed to know if the little girl was okay, he needed to know of Kurt was okay, and he needed to know that he was okay.

He frowned when he realized just where it was that he had stopped. A small grunt of frustration filled the air for a moment, Blaine letting out an aggravated sigh before spinning on his heal and beginning to stalk away from the Gryffindor commons as fast as he could. Why he feet had carried him to where Harry was kept was beyond him – his brother hadn't spoken to him since the Death Eater attack besides a few words here and there. There would be no reason in the least for Blaine to go to Harry for a way to talk things through. A scowl covered his features and he rounded his way back towards the Hufflepuff common room. That was where he wanted to go – even if he wouldn't be able to get any piece of mind there.

"Hey!" He stumbled to a halt, his foot dangling in the air above the vanishing stair and the top of his body swiveling around to look at who was talking to him. Blaine's heart pounded in his chest when his hazel eyes settled on Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Prefect. If there was anyone who would give a Hufflepuff a hard time for being out after hours it would be their own Prefect. "Potter right?" Blaine resisted the urge to break out into a run and, instead, faced the Prefect head on. He wasn't one to run away from people with authority – that was Harry's thing. Okay so maybe he was more than a bit bitter today. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I-..." He paused trying to figure out if he should tell the truth or make up some sort of lie. He figured his best excuse would be the honest answer. "I needed to... think." He deflated and Cedric's honey eyes flowed with sympathy and understanding. While sympathy wasn't what Blaine wanted exactly, at least it was something. His eyes shut for a moment, his foot falling down to step on the stair and steady himself... only to fall straight through.

Cedric jumped forward, his hand closing over the upper part of Blaine's arm, holding onto him as his ankle twisted painfully and his wrist collided with the banister, the bottom half of his body almost falling completely through the air. Cedric pulled him up so that he was sitting on top of the stair above the one that tended to vanish, his feet hanging off into the air where the stair was supposed to be. His heart was pounding faster than it ever had since the World Cup, his stomach rising and falling in his heaved in deep breaths. "Damn it." Cedric cursed under his breath, settling down on the step above him. His hand stayed on Blaine's arm, his grip horribly tight. But Blaine didn't mind. It wasn't as grounding as Kurt's had been, but it was enough. Well enough for the time being. "Are you okay?" Maybe Cedric's voice was naturally soft, or maybe Blaine was simply too pumped up with adrenaline again for him to hear anything besides his frantic heart beat, but he had to strain to hear the words.

He heaved in a deep breath and nodded a few hundred (or so it seemed) times, his hazel eyes wide. "Shit that was scary." He gasped out in between deep breaths, ignoring the fact that he so seldom swore. Cedric laughed loudly and Blaine couldn't help joining in. The older boy – a seventh year if Blaine remembered correctly – was rather handsome if he took the moment to actually observe him. He was tall and he was fit and he had a handsome face and – Blaine blushed cutting off his train of thought before it could become too overwhelming. It wasn't that he was ashamed, he just knew not to assume that everyone would welcome advances. Plus, he wasn't even out of the closet yet. It would be absurd to make any sort of move until it became almost common knowledge. Not that Blaine liked the idea of people puling to conclusions about him and goodness he was all over the place. "Thank you." His face was probably as red as a Gryffindor's tie at his stuttered thanks. He could never forget his manners, even when he really wished he could.

"Are you okay?" Cedric repeated once the two of them had caught their breath and stood up, wiping off their robes with shaking hands.

Blaine glanced up at the older of the two, biting his lip a bit as he put an accidental amount of weight on his ankle and twisted his wrist in the wrong direction. "I've had worse."

Cedric's eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he surveyed Blaine for a long minute before stepping closer and placing his arm around Blaine's waist. Blaine jumped backwards, nearly falling back down the stairs, but catching himself right on time. His hazel eyes were wide in shock and Cedric looked almost concerned by his reaction. "You're ankle." He offered up as an explanation, a tiny smile crossing over his face as Blaine blushed again before accepting his help. "So, what did you come out here to think about?"

He wasn't getting in trouble? Blaine shook the thought away as fast as it came, hobbling away down the corridor in as fast a pace as he could without unintentionally hurting himself more. Damn he was so clumsy. "Just some things."

"Mind telling me?" Cedric offered, leading him over to a stair case and helping him down them slowly. "I've heard I'm one hell of a listener."

Blaine flushed for a moment wondering if he should tell Cedric about the dream and his lingering fear about it happening again and that feeling he got whenever he thought about how soft and grounding Kurt's hand had been in his own. Maybe he'd leave out the last part but it wouldn't exactly be horrible to talk to Cedric about what had happened there. And, to be honest, Blaine was just about ready to burst if he didn't tell anyone who understood. Cedric had been there. He must understand it somewhat. "I... Nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"About the World Cup." He elaborated.

Blaine watched Cedric's face for his reaction. He wasn't denied by the frown and the sideways glance. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. "You too, huh?" Cedric swallowed thickly. "It was horrifying. I didn't know what to do. We got out of there pretty quick."

Blaine averted his eyes, staring down at their feet as they walked. Cedric's feet were bigger than his own, his steps having an even wider berth between them as he walked. "Harry and I got separated." He spoke softly – much more softly than usual. A look of understanding passed over Cedric's handsome features. "I don't really know what happened but I passed out. Kurt saved me – Kurt Hummel, a Slytherin in my year." He specified at Cedric's confused look. "The-the Death Eaters casted some sort of torture spell on me and they were aiming for Kurt and this little girl and they killed her mom and now she's missing and-"

"Breathe, Blaine." Cedric instructed him kindly and gently.

"Harry won't talk to me." He rushed out to say, Cedric pulling the two of them to a stop right outside the portrait. "I don't know what I did but he won't talk to me." Tears of frustration prickled at the corner of his eyes but he willed them backwards.

"Have you tried talking to him?" And maybe Cedric did have a point. Blaine hadn't exactly made any move to speak to his brother any more than Harry had to him. "I'm sure Harry's having just as hard a time as you are." He smiled gently at him, his hands covering Blaine's shoulders and his head bent down to look him in the eye. "Try talking to him and then if things are still awkward then outright confront him. Demand he tell you why."

"Have you met my brother?" Blaine raised an eyebrow at him in indignation and dry humor.

Cedric laughed a bit, pushing him closer to the portrait and smiling brilliantly. "I think it'll work."

"I think you haven't met my brother."

"Have courage Blaine. Everything will turn out okay. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of courage." And with that Cedric bid him goodnight, turning down the hallway and returning back to his Prefect duties. Blaine let out a small long suffering sigh. Courage. That was easier said than done.

Cedric suddenly turned back towards him. "Oh! Blaine?"

Blaine turned back to him, squinting at his figure in the darkness. "Yeah?"

"You're not too obvious." Cedric laughed a bit. "The crush is a little cute actually. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

A hot flush passed up Blaine's cheeks and he stuttered out a thanks before rushing into the common room, passed the empty area and into his dorm, falling back onto his bed with a large sigh and the nerves flaring against his skin.

* * *

><p>Blast-Ended Skrewts. Blaine hated them with a passion. Luckily it didn't seem as though anyone else was having any more luck with the animals than he was, Ron running away from one of them, Hermione trying to stay as far away from hers as possible, and Harry standing off to the corner talking to Hagrid. Blaine let out a slow breath, looking over at the others. Nick looked almost lost as Jeff held both of theirs in his hands, chasing after a few of the Ravenclaw girls in their class. "Hey." A soft, musical voice to his left caused him to jump for a moment.<p>

Blaine let a small smile cross over his face when his eyes fell onto Kurt's form. Prim and proper and somehow wearing the most stylish clothes out of everyone in the school, Kurt stood with his back straight and an overly cautious look in his blue eyes. Blaine's heart began to pick up speed at the smile directed at him. "Hi." He smiled back, ignoring the curious looks sent his way from his fellow house mates. It was weird, wasn't it? A Slytherin deliberately talking to a Hufflepuff.

"How..." Kurt faltered pressing his lips into a thin line for a moment. "How are you?"

"I-I'm good. How are you?" Blaine asked back, immediately hating the awkwardness that surrounded them.

"I'm okay." Kurt seemed to thankfully know what Blaine wanted to ask. He bit his lip and brushed a piece of hair off his forehead. "Do you... Blaine are you-"

"Oh hello!" A perky girl with brown hair and an overly sugar coated voice popped in between the two of them, her smile almost too wide to fit her face.

"Rachel-"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your conversation but I have to speak with Kurt."

"And I have to speak with hobbit." Santana – his friend who wasn't exactly his friend – flew in next to his side, her black skirt just a little too short and her hair high up in a pony tail down her back. "So if you don't mind, Berry. Hummel. Potter and I here have something to talk about."

But they did care. And Kurt made it obvious with the glare he was sending towards his fellow Slytherin and Blaine tried to make it known by the look he sent Santana. He was sure she noticed it – and that she understood it – but he knew more than anything that Santana wasn't the kind of person to care if she had something else on his mind. And, from the look Harry was sending their way, Blaine was sure he knew exactly why she had interrupted them.

* * *

><p><strong> A: N<strong> - What do y'all think? Still like my Blaine? Next chapter we got the arrival of the schools and Blaine confronting Harry! Look forward to that! :D

(1) Merde - Shit in French.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I sincerely apologize to all of the readers who have waited so long for this. I will not make excuses for the time it took me to update. But believe me when I say it isn't because I didn't want to neglect you.**

**I received a lot of appreciated criticism in my last installment from a lot of fans. I understand you guys are used to seeing different characteristics in Harry. He is however in different circumstances than he had previously been having a brother. Now that he has a family member that he loves, I felt he'd do some things a little differently and although JK Rowling is an amazing author I felt she didn't give Harry enough bitterness when he wasn't sleeping well and he was dealing with the threat of Voldemort coming back to life. Naturally, most people would be more irritable. I am happy to receive any critiques though. I am not a seasoned fan fiction writer and any tips are appreciated.**

**Your's Truly,  
>Tathwem Essenuejal<br>**

* * *

><p>Harry watched uneasily as Blaine seemed to be talking with Kurt. There was a class going on around him, and despite the dangers posed by the Blast-Ended Skrewts, Harry was almost unaware of them. He had been talking to Hagrid a little bit but he was avoiding the main point on his mind. Harry was simply irritated. Between his lack of sleep, horrible dreams, almost losing Blaine at the World Cup, and the appearance of this Slytherin boy, Harry was on edge. Unfortunately, it showed. Harry was afraid that he had gone off too harshly on Blaine and had also not given Kurt enough credit. But he couldn't help his temper, or his prejudices.<p>

"Yer seem a little worked up Harry," Hagrid's gruff voice observed. "Is there anything wrong?"

"I don't like Blaine's new friend," Harry deadpanned. "Maybe it isn't right but I don't trust him. But I'm afraid I went off a little too hard on Blaine not too long ago."

"Well not all Slytherins are bad Harry," Hagrid pointed out. That Hummel boy is certainly a friendly young lad. Kind of quiet, and a little bit of a diva but he's smart enough and kind enough. And if you want an example of a fine Slytherin all you have to do is look at Professor Snape."

Harry rolled his eyes at Snapes mention. The name didn't make him like Slytherin anymore than the name of Adolf Hitler would make a Jewish man like Nazis. He didn't so much care that Hagrid trusted him. After all, he trusted Snape because Dumbledore trusted Snape. Although Harry trusted Dumbledore, Harry could not bring himself to even respect the potion's master.

"Just apologize to him Harry," Hagrid continued. "He's yer brother after all. Most siblings fight all the time. I'm sure he'd understand. Nobody's perfect Harry. Blaine of all people understands that. But he's like yer mother; he has a kind heart and he tries to see the best in everyone."

"Thanks Hagrid," Harry agreed nodding his head. Right or wrong Harry had to apologize. Interrupting Blaine's conversation probably wouldn't gain Harry any brownie points, but waiting didn't feel like a good option either. Luckily, Harry knew somebody who wouldn't mind in the least rudely butting in to someone's conversation.

Santana, the Hispanic girl Harry had in mind for the job, wasn't far away either. Unlike Blaine, she wasn't that intrigued in conversation, although Harry found her to be something of a bitch but she wasn't a horrible person all of the time. Harry would just have to take a well-crafted insult before having the opportunity to talk to her. Harry didn't take much offense to her snide remarks though; after all, she insulted everyone (except for her best friend Brittany).

Harry crept on over to Santana who was yelling in Spanish at her Skrewt. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Harry cleared his throat silently, "Excuse me, Santana?" he asked trying to get her attention. She didn't even acknowledge his presence so Harry spoke a little louder repeating, "Excuse me, Santana?"

"Well, well, well," Santana practically sang in a condescending tone, "if it isn't the cowardly lion come to speak with me." She turned around and stood fully erect in Harry's face as if she were an infuriated parent arguing with a child. "What do you want?" She crossed her arms and glared at him but Harry wasn't at all daunted.

"I was wondering if you could get Blaine to come over and see me for a minute," Harry stated more than asked.

"What you can't do it yourself?" Santana asked with overly expressive body motions that made her seem angrily spastic."Why should I help you?"

Harry turned around to find Blaine again. Santana probably didn't have anything against Kurt Hummel, and Harry didn't have any argument that would make Santana all the more willing to do him a favor considering Harry hadn't bothered to stray his friendships from the house of Gryffindor. Santana didn't really bother to make friends either, but that would only make her less willing to do anything for Harry because she didn't give two shits about him. She was one of the very few unaffected by Harry's fame upon entering Hogwarts first year. Moreover, she probably thought him a coward for primarily staying in his comfort zone despite his brave actions to defy the school rules, Voldemort, and the power of the Ministry.

Santana did make enemies however. She had made several of them. She didn't discriminate either. From males to females of all skin tones and nationalities, she had a whole spectrum covered. She had several flings with many boys over the last year alone. As far as girls go, nobody could question she was the most physically developed of her age surpassing the developments of females in some of the upper classes. This made her desirable to many males and she could torture them like no girl. Although she never had been with anyone (that anyone knew of) she took pleasure in watching boys fight over her. Girls were envious and boys were hopelessly attracted.

Harry let out a large sigh but then saw his opportunity to get Santana when a Slytherin by the name of Rachel Berry began approaching Kurt and Blaine. Harry quickly but coarsely muttered while pointing with his eyes, "You'll do it because you and I both have a particularly strong dislike for Rachel."

Santana turned her head once more this time looking over to where the conversation was being held. "Man hands," she muttered under her breath as she abandoned her duty with the Skrewt with a quick pace heading towards the conversing males.

Harry waited a while but it wasn't that long before Blaine appeared in front of him. Blaine seemed kind of pale but other than that he seemed to be regular old Blaine. "I'll leave you two to your bromance or whatever," Santana scoffed as she made her way back to the Skrewt and would undoubtedly return to speaking in Spanish when it pissed her off enough.

Harry cleared his throat feeling a little uncomfortable but didn't drag the conversation. "I'm sorry about how I've been lately," Harry started letting out a huge sigh. "I've been bitter lately but it's not because I'm angry and it's been coming out that way but truly Blaine I'm just…" Harry didn't know how to continue. To admit he was scared because of the dreams and the events at the World Cup would seem almost reasonable to anyone. To Harry however, this was a weakness that a Gryffindor, especially the boy who lived, shouldn't have. "I've been scared Blaine."

Blaine looked on Harry with pity for a moment and then ceased his look almost as if he knew Harry didn't like being looked on with pity. "I know you don't like Kurt," he finally replied. "I know most dark wizards are from Slytherin and a lot of crazy things have been going on but Kurt's a good person. I assure you Harry."

"I'm not here to criticize Kurt," Harry assured. "I just want to tell you to be careful Blaine. You're all I have left. I've grown up not knowing our mum and dad, but I couldn't grow up losing my only true family I have left. I almost lost you at the World Cup and that's something I couldn't handle again Blaine."

"I'll be careful Harry," Blaine promised. "Just as you almost lost me I almost lost you too Harry. But we can't afford to put up walls Harry. As much as we can't afford to be too open we can't afford to shut the right people out."

Harry nodded. "You can go back talking to Kurt now, I just figured I should apologize."

Blaine nodded back. He seemed to have something else on his mind. Something he was unsure if he should tell Harry or not. They stared at each other for a few minutes until Harry finally asked, "Is there anything you want to say?"

Blaine shook his head, "No I'm good Harry. If there ever is though I know how to get to you."

* * *

><p>The Gryffindor common room was cozy, but the homework assignment Harry and Ron were working on negated that. Divination seemed like such a pointless class. Harry and Ron decided to make up their daily fates rather than look into the book to figure out what everything on the sheet meant.<p>

"Let's see," Ron sighed. "We have drowning, being struck by lightning, being possessed by a dark wizard, falling off the astronomy tower, getting molested at Hogsmade... what else would be a horrible fate?"

Harry let out a large breath. "Honestly this is ridiculous," he muttered. Harry looked around the Gryffindor common room and caught sight of a tall broad-shouldered boy. He had dark hair and an amiable air about him. "Finn!" Harry called.

The boy came walking over. "What's up dude?" Finn asked in his casual tone.

"What would be something you'd never want to have happen to you?" Harry asked. "Something that would mean death or being scarred for life preferably."

Finn thought for a couple minutes. "That's a good one dude, but I thing being eaten by a dragon would be a real bummer," he finally said making up his mind.

"That's brilliant!" Ron shouted. "That is a really good one."

"What are you guys doing anyway?" Finn asked slightly intrigued.

"Divination," Ron moaned.

"I love that class!" Finn cheered. "Professor Trelawney says I am a natural at divination."

Harry and Ron shot quick glances at each other. Normally they would have to fight the urge to laugh. Finn being a natural at any academic field would be a miracle in itself. He was a nice person, but he did lack academic skills. Sure he passed, but often times it wasn't by much. Naturally, he was at least above average in Defense Against the Dark Arts and an incredible Quidditch player. Divination however, is one of the last subjects Harry and Ron would expect Finn to excel in. There lack of reaction was more out of pure confusion than of a lack of humor.

Finn looked over Ron's shoulder at the assignment. "That one looks like it means you'll split your head open tripping down a flight of stairs," Finn observed rather excited.

"Well that sounds pleasant," Harry murmured.

"I'm sure there are worse things," Finn shrugged.

"Like spiders," Ron whispered.

This time Finn and Harry were fighting the urge to laugh. The attempt was slightly unsuccessful. Neither Finn nor Harry could keep themselves from letting out a snort.

"Oh come on guys!" Ron protested. "It's not that funny."

"Well I suppose if you mean Aragog then yes he was much worse than splitting your head open," Harry admitted.

"Don't remind me of that bloody thing!" Ron whimpered. "He was the scariest thing I've ever seen."

"That one looks like it means you'll get food poisoning from pudding," Finn suggested.

"That is unpleasant," Ron agreed. "Tell me Finn. How do you get meanings out pf all this?"

"I don't know," Finn says. "It's just what I see in each of these little symbols. It's like they speak to me. You know what I'm saying?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other once more. "No," they replied at exactly the same time. "But I mean good for you," Harry continued. "If you can predict the future then maybe you have an upper hand in life. Or at least you'll know stuff ahead of time."

"I don't know," Finn replied. "I feel like knowing some things before they happen doesn't make the event any more liberating. It's like knowing the end of a movie before you actually watch it. It's like being robbed of the actual event. So I'm not sure I'd actually use my divination skills to spoil any part of anyone's life for them."

Harry and Ron each lightly nodded to what Finn said. Maybe he had some kind of a point. Just then Harry heard the high pitched squeal of an owl enter the common room. When he looked up he saw his snow white owl, Hedwig, come soaring through the common room with an envelope in beak. She perched on the couch and Harry snatched the letter and opened it carefully.

"It's Sirius," Harry said.

"I'm sorry to hear that dude," Finn started. "How serious."

Harry didn't hear Finn though. His eyes were wide open reading the letter.

Ron got up when Harry did and asked, "What is it mate?"

Harry spoke urgently, "I have to get to Blaine. It's urgent. Sirius and Lupin are so concerned about everything that is going on that they are moving closer to here. They could get caught by the ministry."

Although Ron usually seemed jealous of Blaine, this time seemed to be an exception. "Alright Harry, just don't get caught."

Harry nodded and quickly ran up the stairs to his bed and unpacked his father's invisibility cloak. Even if there was nothing either of them could do, Harry had to tell Blaine about this. He had every right to know. Harry threw the cloak over his head and vanished from the sight of the world.

Harry tiptoed down the spiraling stairs, out of the portrait and directly to the Hufflepuff common room. His breath was so heavy that he had to wait before entering the common room. He then realized he didn't even know the password. _Hopefully a prefect will come by_, Harry thought. And at that moment Cedric Diggory appeared and muttered something Harry found inaudible and was granted access into the Hufflepuff Common Room. Harry followed closely behind and managed to enter without turning Cedric's head. Now, he had to find his brother and tell him the news. He took in a deep breath, and continued forward.


End file.
